


PotO - Darkness and His Light

by lovelyladynight



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera - Gaston Leroux
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-07
Updated: 2016-09-07
Packaged: 2018-08-13 15:08:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7981015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelyladynight/pseuds/lovelyladynight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik is the Darkness and has found his Light within Christine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	PotO - Darkness and His Light

**Author's Note:**

> based on http://zhdann.deviantart.com/art/Sing-my-angel-of-music-64896595  
> Phantom of the Opera and its characters belong to Gaston Leroux, Susan Kay, and ALW

A soft voice resounded throughout the opera house. The crowd admired the beauty of it and the cast knew she would lead them into the next season. Only the darkness knew the suffering she endured to perfect such a tool that lived inside.

He had trained her well, better than any voice trainer could.

Their lessons always began with the journey down toward those gates of hell, into the darkness that was his home. Erik knew that she was afraid of the darkness, but he had no choice. He murdered her beloved angel that first night after the chandelier had fallen onto a crowd of innocent people and snatched her away.

Tonight would be no different.

When Christine’s aria ended with a perfected high note, the audience stood applauding. Flowers were thrown onto the stage and golden eyes peeked out from box five. She looked up as a single red rose was thrown to her from the box. The darkness pleased with the light for the first time in months.

She slipped into her dressing room, aware that a shadow followed her. It always followed her, where ever she went. Christine closed the door and locked it. She knew he would come for her in a few moments.

A knock came from the door. Christine unlocked it and opened to see the smiling face of her childhood sweetheart carrying a bouquet of pink lilies, her not-so-favorite flower. “Raoul,” she smiled, graciously accepting them. She smelled them for his sake, even if she didn’t like it.

“I have to talk to you, Christine,” Raoul said, closing the door behind him.

“What about?”

“About our plan to capture that creature you call angel…”

****

Below the opera house, the darkness looked into the mirror. He hated his own reflection, but he had to look into it to remind himself of what he was.

It was almost a year ago when he came to her as a man, and not her beloved angel as he did ten years prior. He stole her away from the world of light into his domain of darkness. She questioned him and begged to be returned to the world above. He agreed only on the condition that she stayed with him for five days and if she promised to return from time to time to see him.

She agreed to his terms and fell asleep in his arms to the music and power of his angelic voice. However, the next day, he was working on “Don Juan Triumphant” in his room, when Christine snatched his mask away and revealed the beast he truly was. Even after she pulled his mask away and exposed what he truly was, he could not live without her. He loved her and couldn’t deny it.

Now, far below, in front of a mirror, the darkness replaced his mask with a new one. The former one had become old, torn, and parts of Erik’s face could be seen. He glared at the mirror for a few more moments before traveling upward to fetch Christine for her lesson and to congratulate her on another triumphant. His heart raced at the thought of seeing her again; her blue eyes, golden curls soft as a sigh, and her delicious pale skin that had a painted blush along her cheeks.

She was his love, his life, and his light that shone in the darkness of his soul.

Upon arriving, he heard soft sobs coming from the dressing room. He hurried until he reached the one-way mirror and saw his beloved. At her feet was the Vicomte de Changy. They were talking, evidently about him. Erik strained against the window to listen.

“We’re planning a surprise attack on this monster,” the Vicomte was saying, “and we need to use your voice as bait.”

“No Raoul!” Christine gasped in shear horror, “I said I would sing one last time, but I didn’t intend that this would happen.”

“We must Christine! Once he is captured, then we can move away and leave this place behind us.”

Christine began to sob. Crystal tears traveled over her pink cheeks and fell onto her blue gown, leaving dark spots in their wake. Erik’s hands clenched into tight fists, not wanting to make his presence known. Once the fop left, then he could comfort his little angel.

“Please Raoul,” Christine whimpered, trying to dry her never-ending tears, “please leave me in peace for a time. I need to collect myself.”

The Vicomte nodded before standing. Opening the door, he turned and said, “I’m only trying to do what I think is best for you, Christine. I love you and I don’t want to lose you.”

Once he was gone, Christine wept silently, unaware her dressing room mirror opened. It wasn’t until she felt a boney hand on her shoulder that she gasped and realized Erik was there.

His blazing yellow eyes bore into hers. He knelt in front of her and took the hem of her dress and kissed it, knowing she could never allow his lips on hers. Christine seemed to almost grant him a smile, the first one she gave him in months since the realization that her angel was a mortal man.

Erik’s gloved hands gently brushed away her tears. Christine grasped one of his hands and held it to her face, kissing the palm. “Oh Christine… my sweet little angel…”

She smiled and looked into her darkness’ eyes. She, incased by light, and him, surrounded forever in the darkness, were two halves of a whole. Her song to his melody. She squealed as Erik lifted her into his arms and carried her through the mirror, leaving the dressing room empty for the Vicomte to find.

****

Not a word was spoken between the two of them as Erik carried Christine through the labyrinth of the underground. She clutched him tightly and allowed him to lead her away from the warmth of her world into the dark and coldness of his.

The underground lair chased the chill away from the catacombs when they arrived. However, to Christine’s surprise, Erik never placed her on her feet. Instead, he carried her across the thresh-hold and into her room. He set her down on the bed and turned to go, only to have her grab his hand again.

Erik turned and saw tears still staining her pink cheeks. He sat down next to her, expecting to see her crawl away. To his surprise, Christine climbed into his lap like a child searching for its mother’s affections.

She wept openly onto his white shirt as his arms embraced her, gently settling her distress. She whimpered into his ear quietly, “I don’t want you to leave me.”

“I never will Christine,” he breathed, “I will always be with you, forever and ever.”

“Erik, that’s not what I meant.”

He looked into her blue eyes. Her tear-filled gazed brightly up at him and he watched the emotions play across her features. His gloved fingers tangled into her curls again as he sighed, “You were never meant to be mine, _ange_. You’re the light, my dear little Christine, and I won’t take it away from your world.”

Christine groaned and pressed her body closer into his chest. What if he was the light and she was the dark? She could be just as dark as her beloved angel, and he could be as beautiful and full of light if he only opened himself to her.

She pressed a light kiss to the cheek of his mask, wishing for the vanishment of that hideous object that blocked him from her.

She tucked herself in his thin body as her stroke her curls, calming the storm that filled her soul with hate, regret, and love. She whispered, while grasping a hold on his jacket, “How much did you hear?”

“Enough for me to decide to take you away,” he replied, “I will let you go, but not while they intend on using you as bait for my demise.”

“Good idea. I’ve missed your company so much _ange_ …”

Erik looked at her, golden eyes harboring a hidden anger. He bid softly, “This isn’t for your precious Vicomte, is it?”

“Of course not!” Christine replied, pulling back, “Why on earth would you ask that?”

Erik never answered. They sat in silence for some time before a yawn was let out. Erik laughed quietly as she hid her head in his chest, ready to die of embarrassment.

He stood up with Christine crawling off of him. He chuckled, “I’d best let you rest; you’ve had a trying day, Christine. Why don’t you refresh yourself? I’ll be here if you need me.”

He left her alone.

Christine wiped the lingering tears away from her eyes as she headed into her private bathroom. As she undressed and slipped into the warm cocoon of the water to bathe, she found herself to be stuck in a very odd position. She was engaged to Raoul, but her heart rested with Erik. She couldn’t have both of them, and she couldn’t bare to hurt either of them. Christine pondered all of their actions.

Raoul was handsome and perfect in many ways. He had a title and was wealthy, but had slept with numerous women and carelessly tossed them aside without a question. Raoul was also kind and a gentleman in his own ways. She had known him when they were only small children one summer, when her father was still alive. They, however, never saw each other after she moved from Sweden. If she married him, she would have to give up music, the very thing that kept her alive.

Unlike Raoul, Erik was a ghost. He was born a skeleton with a hideous face that he hid behind a mask. He also murdered, lied, and cheated his way into the position he currently had. He was kind to her and promised to never hurt her. The main thing she feared from him was the occasional mood swing; enjoyable one moment, enraged the next. She had known him as two people, her angel of music for about nine years and Erik for the past year. He was a genius that the world would never know. If she married him, he would protect her and give the music she thrived in.

This was going to be a rough decision…

****

After spending sometime in the bath, Christine finished and pulled the plug, allowing the once warm water to vanish beneath her feet. Pulling a white towel around herself, she hastily entered her bedroom. In the far corner of her closet, a soft white nightgown peered out at her. Pulling it on, she looked at herself in the mirror.

It was a very warm picture to look at. Christine’s pale features framed by her wet curls, dressed like a Vicomtesse. As she looked upon herself, she thought only of the man who provided for her, the man who molded her voice into that of an angel’s. She breathed a sigh before entering her room again.

Erik was sitting on the couch in her room, waiting for her. When she entered, he stood up, apologizing, “I’m sorry to bother you, my dear-”

“It’s alright,” Christine said, wrapping her arms around her waist. She asked, uncomfortably, “Is there something you need?”

Erik set his thumb and pointer finger on the bridge of his mask’s nose. He sighed before saying, “I was w-worried about you...”

“How? I’m safe here...”

“Christine,” he cut her off, “I know of your beloved’s plan, I know what he thinks of me. I-I’m afraid that I’ll lose you.”

They were silent for a while, both lost in thoughts. What would happen if they lost each other?

Erik broke the silence, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have to worry. You’re here with me again. I should let you sleep. You’ve had a trying day, my dear.”

He turned to the door. Before leaving, Erik turned to face her and said, “Good night, Christine. Sweet dreams.”

He closed the door before she could say anything. Christine sighed as she climbed into her warm bed and blew out the candle.

As she laid in the darkness, she whispered to him, “I love you...”

 

Fin.


End file.
